The Graveyard
by Prisoner617
Summary: When her brother goes missing during a supply run, Kayla escapes her safe haven to find him in the territory known as the Graveyard, a place she hasn't been for nearly three years... A place where both the living and the dead will kill you in a heartbeat.
1. Spreading Wings

**__The Graveyard  
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**Spreading Wings  
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**_2015_**

The earth shook as the sound of thunder boomed through the night sky. Kayla catapulted up from her cot, sweating. The downpour leaking through her shoddy roof had soaked her blanket; one she and her brother had used for nearly two years. Two long years she'd been living in Fortaleza; a haven from the freakish creatures that were once human beings wandering the Graveyard beyond the rusted electric fence. The Graveyard was everyone's nickname for the territory beyond the few Sanctuaries strewn about the country.

Collecting her breath, Kayla rubbed her eyes. She'd only slept for hour, and now dawn was a few hours away. The thought of her missing brother Othello out in the Graveyard had been keeping her up for the past three nights.

_"A raider got a shot off on him, and he fell into a river," she'd been told by Adrian, Othello's friend and fellow supply runner. "We never found him. The current must've carried him far out there."_

_She felt faint. "A – aren't there going to be any searches?" _

_Adrian shook his head, taking a few moments to piece together an answer. "Sorry... but one man isn't worth a search and rescue out there. He could be anywhere."_

_Kayla felt the wind knocked out of her lungs. Although it was not a new feeling, she felt herself on the verge of collapse. _

_"I'm really sorry," he said hesitantly as the last bit of blood drained from Kayla's face._

Nearby, the slum's inhabitants began to shuffle towards more appropriate shelter, dragging dozens of garbage bags filled with their clothes and canned food. But Kayla remained isolated from the rest, fishing out a raincoat from her own garbage bag and throwing it over herself.

She began to tear up again, despising the feeling of being left alone, especially in a world like this. The past three nights she'd been racking her brain, formulating some sort of escape plan from the Sanctuary. Digging under the fence, hopping over the fence, out through the guarded main gate...

If there was any chance he was alive, she was going to go look for him. She'd depended on her brother for so long that she couldn't imagine living without him. It was hard enough pre-apocalypse when Othello was sent to jail, leaving her behind after he'd looked after her exclusively for almost two years.

_"I gave up my own future because I thought you deserved one," _he'd always say. _"Don't waste what I've given you."_

The thought of entering the Graveyard for the first time since the initial outbreak when she was thirteen was terrifying, but she would rather risk her own life to find him than stay in the Fortaleza slums all by herself.

The main problem would be getting back. It'd be near impossible to return once she escaped. Sanctuaries, or at least Fortaleza, weren't in the business of welcoming outsiders. She doubted anyone knew or cared that she was even a resident here. If she found her brother, then maybe they'd be recognized and let back in...

Maybe.

But what if she didn't find him, and she was stuck in the Graveyard like she had been before she came here? She shivered, doubts creeping into her mind for the first time. It'd be radically different without anyone looking out for her.

However, it only took one look at the group of people huddling together under a small awning to revive her motivation. A few pushed and shoved, but most stood silently, pondering how they would get through the next week with enough sustenance. They shook from the cold, staring at the lone girl sitting under a pathetic excuse for a roof, arms wrapped around her legs.

How could she go through all that for the rest of her life, alone? If it was grim here, how much worse could it be out in the Graveyard?

That was it. She'd made her decision.

Taking a deep breath, she clicked on her dying flashlight and acquired the dull, rusted knife she'd bartered yesterday for a can of tuna. Hastily pocketing it, she pulled the hood of her raincoat and crawled out of her little box.

"You're doing this. You have to do this," she said, convincing herself.

With another flash of lightning, it was the perfect moment to act. The guards manning the towers weren't being paid enough to keep constant watch under such dire weather conditions, not to mention it was 4:30 in the morning. Instead, management let the electric fence surrounding the perimeter do its job. Besides, nobody usually wanted to flee the Sanctuary for the Graveyard. In fact, Kayla believed she was setting a precedent with her spontaneous decision.

Taking one last look at her sorry home, she slipped down an alleyway leading toward the gates of Fortaleza, leaving all her belongings due to the weight. Kayla would have to hunt for food and garments once she was out in the Graveyard with only her flashlight and knife. Being in the slum area, they lived closest to the perimeter. The drawbacks were the constant moans of any nearby zombies, and the fact that if the perimeter was ever breached, they'd be the first to spill their guts. That would give the wealthy living in the centre time to retreat into an emergency shelter at the heart of the Sanctuary.

Even with the world ended, humanity was still divided. There was still an economy running, with rich dominating the poor. They even had electricity, and better food. Most of them were well acquainted with Richard Penn, a former congressman who was now managing Fortaleza. Anybody who opposed were immediately imprisoned without trial. They weren't even allowed visitors.

Lost in her thoughts, Kayla realised she'd reached the main gate. As suspected, the watchtower was missing an occupant, leaving two large sets of electrified gates unsupervised. Beyond was an endless night with several groans echoing through the rain. They stopped haunting her as she grew used to hearing them nightly, but now they made her feel uneasy again. Maybe it was because she'd be within their reach soon enough.

She approached the tower, constantly scanning her surroundings, but no one was visible through the thickness of the rain. Her heart beat fast as she ascended the slippery ladder. It was a short climb, and within a minute she poked her head up to examine the tower interior. Her eyes widened as she ducked. A man was presumably sleeping on the ground. Swallowing, Kayla slithered into the tower, heart pounding.

The gate switch was right over his body. Drops of water slid from her coat, dripping onto the wooden floor. Her hands trembling, she reached for the switch just as lightning flashed. Below, the gates slowly screeched aside, revealing the entrance to the Graveyard. Inhaling deeply, she made for the ladder just as thunder rang out. The man snorted, rising from his slumber in a drowsy fashion.

Wide-eyed, Kayla jammed her feet on the ladder before he regained awareness. Skipping the last few rungs, she splashed onto a pool of mud. Ahead, she saw the gates closing. The man must've noticed.

With no time to reconsider her decision, Kayla hit the ground running. Behind, she faintly heard the guard calling for her to halt. She ignored his orders, bypassing both gates entirely just in time to trip and fall face first into a trench of sludge.

Spluttering, she shook her head and wiped her eyes. She'd taken her first steps back into the Graveyard, and she'd proven her incompetence already. A foul stench suddenly reached her nostrils. She turned to her left and saw something she hadn't seen up close in a long time; a stumbling zombie with its active jaw and outstretched arms.

Panicked, Kayla scrambled out of the mud to her feet. She'd exposed herself to the Graveyard once more. She sprinted hurriedly in the opposite direction. Running like the terrified and vulnerable girl she was... as far away from safety, and as far into danger as she could.


	2. Drifters

**Drifters**

Kayla's eyes had grown heavy since her escape. The cold morning breeze and constant rain helped keep her awake, but she could feel her body wearing down, vulnerable to sickness. She'd slowed to a snail's pace with her heart throbbing painfully as she wheezed, ready to throw up. She didn't even notice something writhing around on the ground. She carelessly kept moving forward until she saw the legless zombie at the last second.

She let out a cry, sidestepping the dead man's swipe and ventured deeper into the forest. The woods stretched on for miles, and the rain kept pouring. Unable to go on, she reached out for the nearest tree and slumped against the wet bark. Her breaths were heavy, having sprinted for a straight half hour. Parched, she stuck her tongue out and let the water drop into her throat. Above her, birds were tweeting, announcing morning's arrival as the sky turned navy blue.

If someone attacked her now in her present condition, it'd be hopeless. She'd discovered briefly into her run that her knife was missing. It had likely slipped out of her pocket when she fell in the mud, leaving her armed only with a dying flashlight and her bare hands.

"_How much worse is this gonna get?" _she thought, struggling to her feet. She pushed herself on, using the trees for support. _"I'm in way over my head, aren't I?"_

Kayla had rested just long enough to collect her breath. The woods were filled with numerous groans and leaves rustling under their heavy footsteps. It'd be unwise to stay stationary for too long. She'd already seen a fair few and wasn't keen on running into any more. She mentally noted to keep her eyes constantly peeled to look for any kind of threat. The only way she'd survive in her current state was early detection.

Beginning to think she would collapse and probably die in these god forsaken woods, Kayla nearly missed a rather shoddy picket fence dividing the forest from an open field. Panting, she scaled the fence and toppled over onto the other side. Feeling sore all over, she rolled onto her back and studied her surroundings.

It was a small, reclusive property with a cabin and a beautiful cherry tree opposing it. Its pink leaves glowed brightly, distinctive in the misty morning rain. Kayla approached it, mesmerised. It'd been a long time since she saw something so wonderful in such a dark world.

Something was etched on the trunk. A message:

_AMY LABELLE  
>1980-2014<br>THE WOMAN WHO SAVED MY LIFE_

"_She passed away last year," _thought Kayla, her finger tracing the scratches when a horrifying thought came to mind. Her eyebrows rose as she looked down at her feet. Realising she'd been disturbing the resting place of this supposed saviour, she backed off immediately, afraid she might come out of the ground.

A rustling in a nearby tree reminded her to be cautious. She took one last look around before turning to the cabin, which had rotting wood and bloodstains smeared over some parts. Whoever wrote the message could still be living in there. Swallowing, she grasped the handle with one hand and knocked lightly with the other. She might be able to find help.

Receiving no answer, she turned the handle and took a peek inside. Apart from all the cobwebs and dust, the place looked untouched. Nobody had stepped foot inside for a long time. The place was furnished with the basics, including a sofa and a desk. Two more rooms with closed doors were on the other side, probably for the bedroom and bathroom.

Relieved, but somewhat disappointed she didn't find anyone inside; she closed the door firmly behind her. A wave of fatigue had suddenly overcome her, and she found herself reaching for the sofa. She'd been running on fumes for the past 24 hours, and now she was sniffling with a small cold. All she needed was some rest. Some time to think up a strategy. She removed her raincoat off and crashed on the sofa. The drops of rain pattering on the roof made it so easy to drift off...

* * *

><p><em>2010<em>

"_I told you this would happen, didn't I? I told you! Now I'm stuck with a bratty foster-sister."_

_A twelve year old Kayla was whining to her brother through a protected window pane at a remote correctional facility. Othello's illegal fighting activities had finally caught up to him, and now her days of drifting around the country with her brother were over. She'd been recently shipped to a foster family while her brother served his sentence. So far, Kayla felt she was in a dark place without him, and things were only going to get worse._

_He looked solemn, avoiding Kayla's gaze. "Sorry I let you down, Kay."_

_Kayla sniffed, shaking her head. It was hard seeing him behind the glass. "No. Remember what you told me? 'We stick together, we fight together. No matter what, we got each other's backs!'" She breathed in. "I'm not gonna just forget about you. I promise I'll write as often as I can, okay?"_

_Othello nodded. "You're right." He straightened his posture. "Don't give up alright? You've probably got someone better looking after you now, and if you don't, I promise I'll be out of here soon. No way I trust you to take care of yourself." _

_He winked and they both managed a smile, unaware it'd only take two years before they'd reunite once again._

* * *

><p>"Well well... look what we got here... one tiny girl keeping this large shack all to herself."<p>

Kayla's eyes snapped open, and she was staring at a man overhead, drenched from the rain. He looked like a toad with his large round eyes and his tongue licking his wide lips. He spoke with a hiss, and seemed to be playing with a sharp looking blade in his hand.

"Mind if we bunk in together? I've been feeling rather lonely these past few months." He laughed nastily.

Kayla was frozen on the sofa, unable to think, unable to move. What was she going to do against that razor sharp dagger when all she had was her dying flashlight – and her knife!

She thrust her hand into her pocket, only to wrap her hands around her stupid flashlight. The memory of the knife tumbling out had slipped her mind. The man however, was unappreciative of the hostile gesture, and grabbed her wrist.

"Whoa! What you got there doll?" he said, snatching the flashlight. He sneered, tossing it aside. "What were you gonna do, blind me?"

"Help!" Kayla screamed out at the top of her lungs.

The toad-like man snarled, grabbing her throat and hoisting her up. Kayla thrashed about; trying to escape the hold but it was no use. She was a tiny insect compared to the pudgy toad. Clicking his tongue, he shook his head as a Cheshire grin developed.

"Not a good idea doll. We can't have anyone interrupting our little blind date." He began to caress her face with his knife, a look of desire in his eyes. "It's very rare to meet cute young women out here these da–"

His words however, were suddenly cut off. A loud bang echoed throughout the room as the door flew off its hinges. Someone had stormed the room, a pistol in his hand. The pudgy man jumped in surprise, quickly securing Kayla in a headlock.

"Come any closer, and we'll be swimming in her blood!" he threatened, showing off his knife.

The stranger flashed a subtle smirk, but held his position. Kayla's heart rate skyrocketed as her captor tightened his grip, dragging her back to a corner.

Uneasy about the stranger's silence, the toad man coaxed him for a response. "Who the hell do you think you are?"

There was a brief moment of silence before he finally whispered, "A drifter... someone who's more than happy to end your life right now."

Kayla stared, trying to get a good look at him. His face was mostly obscured by shadows and a pair of large sunglasses covering most of his upper face. However, as far as she could see, the man's face was a complete blank. His gun however, was shaking in his hands. Kayla gulped.

Her captor went silent for a second, before giving another horrible cackle. "You think you can shoot me?" he taunted, turning to Kayla. "You think he's gonna shoot at me, doll?" His horrendous breath smothered her ear. "He can't even keep his damn hands still."

"Please help me," Kayla begged, struggling to breathe as her eyes began to tear. She was helpless with the knife poised to slice her throat at a moment's notice. The man's face briefly lit up at her words, and the trembling in his hands was immediately suppressed.

"_Pwease hewp,"_ toad man mimicked in a high voice. He gave one last, cruel laugh before sticking his tongue out and bringing it toward Kayla's neck.

But it was blood splattering all over her, not saliva.

The roar of the gunshot shook the room. Her captor flew backward into the wall with a clean shot to his head as Kayla scurried away, screaming. Collapsing onto the floor, she glanced at the fat toad's corpse deposited in the corner. Sickened by the sight, she shuffled away only to meet her saviour's feet. Her head rose, and found the barrel of his gun a few inches away from her face. She shielded herself with her hands, afraid to give him a reason to shoot her too.

"Who are you?" he asked, raising an eyebrow, revealing a horrible scar leading down behind his sunglasses to his right eye. Kayla couldn't speak, her mind racing a thousand miles an hour.

Unsatisfied with her lack of reply, he inched the gun closer to her temple. "We've got about a minute before any nearby walkers come walkin'. Now, do you want to answer my question?"

"I – I – Kayla, my name is Kayla," she stammered.

The man kept his gun raised, surveying Kayla through his oversized shades. "What were you doing here?"

"I – I was just looking for a place to rest for a while – and maybe see if there was anyone here."

"Is that all you were doing?"

"Yes, I swear, I promise on my life that's all I was doing, just please don't shoot me!"

The man blinked a few times before lowering his gun a little. Kayla kept still on the ground, unable to believe her horrible luck thus far.

"Alright," he said at last, offering his hand. "Come on, we'd better get out of here. They'll be here any second."

Kayla grabbed the man's arm and helped herself up before taking deep breaths to calm herself down. "Wait, what about you? Who are you?" Outside the curious moans of the dead grew nearer.

The man's lips tightened as he swallowed. "You can call me John. Now c'mon, let's go."

John took off out the door before Kayla had even made up her mind about him. She wasn't completely sure she could trust John, but he did save her life. She couldn't stay here with the possibility of an imminent zombie invasion, but it felt rather contrived that he was nearby just as she needed help. There was something suspicious about him.

Hearing the nearby moans, Kayla shook off her reservations and chased after John.


End file.
